Only One Rose

Chapter 1

The Doctor ran into the TARDIS, slamming the doors shut behind him. He leaned against them, breathing heavily. Something outside sounded with a crash, shaking the police box. He started, and ran to the controls, frantically pulling levers, pushing buttons, pulsing his sonic screwdriver. The TARDIS began to quiver violently, as if something was shaking it from side to side. He cursed under his breath. “Random fluctuations in the space-time continuum,” he muttered. He hated dealing with the weeping angels. It was all fun and games until one was right outside your TARDIS. The controls had begun to smoke. He fanned at them frantically. “Oh, not now! Not now, please!” Something sparked, and suddenly the entire TARDIS blew a fuse. The police box was hurtling through time and space, with absolutely no sense of direction. She was spinning out of control. It was all he could do to hold on to his control panel. She screeched to a stop, and the Doctor landed on the floor. He sighed and pulled himself up, straightening his tie, dusting off his pants, ruffling his hair. But something was wrong. The lights weren't supposed to be flashing like that. The TARDIS jerked violently, and the Doctor was thrown against the control panel. His hands flew over the switches, desperately trying to right his spaceship. It was to no avail. “Come on,” he muttered. “Come on!” The TARDIS slammed into a hard surface, sending the Doctor flying backward into the wall. He felt a deep ache in his back, and he winced as he slid down the wall. He sat on the floor for a moment, his knees pulled up to his shoulders. The TARDIS wheezed one last time before sputtering to a stop.

The emergency lights came on, but there was no other power. The Doctor rose to his feet cautiously, rubbing his back as the pain ebbed away, and approached the control panel once again. “Where are we then, eh?” he whispered to the controls. He reached for the pull down screen, but the TARDIS seemed to be completely drained of power. “Guess there's only one way to find out,” he turned his head sideways, a smile playing across his lips. He ran to the doorway, and in one swift motion pulled both doors open. The cool night air ruffled his hair, dusting it with the falling snow. His breath was visible in the clear moonlight. He leaned out of his box, squinting at his surroundings, before finally stepping away. The doors swung shut behind him. He was in a small, dark alleyway, in between two large green dumpsters and a faded brick wall. There was a full moon above him, and a dirty, trampled newspaper by his feet. He bent over, examining the date at the top.

December 24th, 2010

“Christmas Eve,” he murmured. He scanned the headlines briefly. “London. How is it that I always end up in London at Christmas time?” He tucked his hands into his trench coat, and stepped out of the alleyway.

Strolling through the streets, the snow crunching under his Converse sneakers, he momentarily forgot about the drastic condition of his TARDIS. He sniffed the brisk London air. It was familiar, but at the same time, something seemed off. Something was strange, something was different. He looked around him. It looked like London, smelled like London, sounded like London. He walked swiftly toward the park. He bent over and pulled up a blade of grass and chewed it twice before spitting it out in disgust. It definitely tasted like London. But then what was off? He shook off his instincts, walking around the city with little thought as to where he was going. Without realizing, his feet had led him around the familiar course to a large, white apartment building with a red brick base. It was where Rose Tyler used to live. Noticing where he was, he shook himself out of his daze. He stared at the building, trying to fight his desire to go inside. There were people living there, judging by the state of the place, but surely they hadn’t sold Rose Tyler’s flat. “Oh there'll be no one there now, I might as well have a look,” he gave in finally. He made his way up to his old companion's flat and reached for the doorknob. There was a Christmas wreath on the door. He stared at it curiously. Had it been Christmas the last time Rose Tyler had been on Earth? He shook his head and rattled the doorknob a bit before realizing it was locked. He took out his sonic and pulsed it at the handle. It clicked and sprung open. He looked up to see five people sitting around a table filled with all sorts of Christmas treats. The flat was the very picture of festivity, from the brilliantly decorated tree to the softly glowing candles in every corner. There was a glowing electrical fireplace, with stockings and pictures decorating its mantle. Silver tinsel hung everywhere, along with strings of photos taped to Christmas lights. At the table, wearing paper tissue crowns, were none other than Rose, Jackie, Pete, the human version of himself, and a boy that looked approximately four years old, which the Doctor assumed to be Rose's younger brother. He stared in shock at the scene, and was met with equal surprise from the people before him. “But – wha – how?” the Doctor stammered. Rose Tyler's hand moved to cover her mouth, which had dropped open. Tears sprang to her eyes.

“Doctor?” she whispered, her voice breaking. The Doctor's eyes widened. He shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be here. Everything was wrong. He needed to figure out what was going on. But Rose Tyler . . .

“Doctor?” she asked again, standing up. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him as if she never wanted to let go. She rested her head onto his shoulder, sobs racking her body. He gently embraced her, rubbing her back. It had been four long years since he'd last seen her. He had missed her Cockney accent and her blonde hair and her voice and her walk. He'd missed everything about her. He'd spent the last four years pining for her, and here she was again, in his arms. But it was wrong.

“My Rose Tyler,” he whispered softly into her ear. She smiled against his shoulder. She finally looked up at him, her dark green eyes glimmering softly.

“How did you get here? I thought you closed off the portal,” she asked. The Doctor’s eyes widened.

“I thought you were the ones who had gotten yourselves onto the Earth!” he exclaimed, backing away from Rose. He smacked himself on the forehead.“Oh this is wrong. This is so wrong! I should have seen this coming! I can’t be on the parallel universe!” The human version of himself stood up, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps the rift has been re-opened, Doctor,” the human said.

“Well isn’t that obvious, Doctor?” the Doctor replied.

“It’s just John now.” The Doctor stared at his human form. It was impossible not to be jealous of him. He had a life, a home, a place where he belonged. He had Rose. The Doctor bit back his emotions. Perhaps the Daleks and the Cybermen were on to something. Emotions really do destroy you. The Doctor looked back at Rose’s hand and took it in his own. A shimmering diamond ring rested on her third finger.

“You’re married,” the Doctor glanced back at Rose’s face, hurt evident in his eyes. She grimaced.

“I didn’t – It was just – I –,” she stammered. The Doctor searched her eyes. “Yes, I’m married,” she said softly. The Doctor stared at her face for a moment, trying to memorize every last detail. They weren’t meant to be, no matter how much he loved her.

“Right then,” he cleared his throat, “I’d better be off. Last of the time lords and all,” he said.

“All alone?” she asked him quietly.

“Yes, Rose Tyler, all alone,” he smiled sadly.

“Will I ever see you again?”

“You can’t.”

“Can’t I come with you?”

“And leave all this behind? I don’t think you’d want to.” Rose stared at him for a moment before wrapping him in her arms again.

“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered against his ear.

“Rose, you can’t. You belong here. You’ll get tired of me.”

“I could never get tired of you.”

“You’ll age. I won’t. I can’t take that. I can’t just watch someone I lo –” the Doctor stopped himself. It was no use telling her how he felt. He couldn’t break her like that again. Rose stared at him.

“I – I love you,” she said, her voice breaking, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Quite right too,” he said with a sad smile. “And I suppose, if it’s my last chance to say it – Rose Tyler, I really do love you to Gallifrey and back.” She tried to stifle her sob, but she could help herself. She was crying. The Doctor wrapped her in his arms, holding her as close as he possibly could. He buried his face in her hair.

“Why won’t you take me with you?”

“I can’t, Rose Tyler. Time is like a river. There are some boulders, definite events that must occur and can’t be moved or changed by the river. There are also pebbles that the river constantly rolls around. This moment – this is a boulder. I can’t change what happens here.” She looked at him, heartbroken. He had to tear himself away from her. He couldn’t look back, couldn’t see the hurt on her face anymore. He walked down the hallway, back down the stairs. This was the curse of the time lords. This was the curse he must live with every single day. He walked back to the TARDIS, looking back at the parallel London one last time, a tear rolling down his cheek.

        “I don’t want to go,” he whispered, before he turned around and closed the door behind him.